[There's something nice, he reflects, about someone running their hands through his hair. A motherly kind of gesture, something he'd forgotten about. Had his mother ever done that for him? Surely she must have. Ever so slightly, the tension in his shoulders starts to ease as Tifa doesn't try to snap his neck, or yank his hair, or--
The strangled noise that bursts from between his lips at the lick is high-pitched and thoroughly undignified, the sound of someone so baffled and enraged as to have been rendered mute by the sheer audacity of this-]
Fucking creature-!
[He doesn't realize he's said that last part out loud until he's scrambling away himself, one hand reaching behind his back in an attempt to draw his saw sword. For a moment of blind rage, he seriously considers just eliminating the problem entirely.
His grits his teeth so hard they might crack, then forces himself to stand upright. Too upright, as he takes several quick steps back away from both the giraffe and Tifa.]
Excuse me. [Arms clamped at his sides, cheeks flushed a brilliant red from rage and embarrassment, he inclines his head.] I-I'll be going now. Thank you. Farewell.
[He rushes through the perfunctory goodbye in an attempt to do what he does best from humiliating situations -- run. He turns on his heel and walks stiffly away, every fiber of his being taut with the effort of not reaching up to fix his hair.]
no subject
The strangled noise that bursts from between his lips at the lick is high-pitched and thoroughly undignified, the sound of someone so baffled and enraged as to have been rendered mute by the sheer audacity of this-]
Fucking creature-!
[He doesn't realize he's said that last part out loud until he's scrambling away himself, one hand reaching behind his back in an attempt to draw his saw sword. For a moment of blind rage, he seriously considers just eliminating the problem entirely.
His grits his teeth so hard they might crack, then forces himself to stand upright. Too upright, as he takes several quick steps back away from both the giraffe and Tifa.]
Excuse me. [Arms clamped at his sides, cheeks flushed a brilliant red from rage and embarrassment, he inclines his head.] I-I'll be going now. Thank you. Farewell.
[He rushes through the perfunctory goodbye in an attempt to do what he does best from humiliating situations -- run. He turns on his heel and walks stiffly away, every fiber of his being taut with the effort of not reaching up to fix his hair.]